Just the slightest chance of it incites these bumps of terror through my skin. The notorious Human that breeds hate, that falls for temptations, misguided into sin and the one that always makes mistakes.

I feel like a sinning machine. A lost traveller in pursuit of something. It could actually be nothing but that is what we are afraid of. This is the mortal conundrum. It is the path that one takes to explore the richer existential questions that are posed by fancy philosophers. These philosophers, like doctors, prescribe me drugs that have alluring titles such as ‘No Divinity’ or ‘Stop being a hallucinating Religious Fiend!’. But, I’ve come to realise that, perhaps, I feel this way because it may be a symbol of a higher power. I am not happy to conduct my life the way it is, and I am not happy that one must stop believing in a supreme being due to others’ actions and end up being ashamed to believe in the Divine. I believe in the way of living that people are in fear of looking at or up at.

And that’s when I realise, I am human, I do sin because it reflects the meaning of life.

Life is a test. The lost meaning of life that once stood for the battle between good versus bad.

And the last question it poses is how many ‘good’ people out there would lend a helping hand to one in need of it?